


Saxifrage

by Qzil



Category: Supernatural
Genre: (light) blood mention, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Childbirth, Darkfic, F/M, Forced Pregnancy, Godstiel - Freeform, Light Bondage, Oral Sex, Vaginal Sex, Vessel Consent Issues, forced breastfeeding, some seriously screwy timelines/messing with canon for the sake of porn, somnophilia (mentioned), vaginal fisting (sort of)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-02
Updated: 2014-09-02
Packaged: 2018-02-15 22:24:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2245545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Qzil/pseuds/Qzil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After realizing how many angels he killed in Heaven, Castiel finds a way to rebuild his ranks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Saxifrage

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dykeadellic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dykeadellic/gifts).



Her whole body hurt.

That was Meg’s first thought when she came to on the bed of an unfamiliar room, an unbearable pressure pushing down on her. The bed under her should have been soft, comforting, but instead it felt smothering under the power holding her there. She could feel the girl inside her struggling to breathe, move, do something to save her body from dying, and for a moment she almost gave control over.

The door opened and the pressure increased. The girl inside her screamed, but Meg, having spent years on the racks in Hell, clamped her mouth shut and refused to let out a sound. Her vessel’s ribs began to creak.

“You’re finally awake. I was beginning to worry.”

Meg stiffened, recognizing Castiel’s voice. She felt movement by the edge of the bed and managed to turn her head slightly. When she looked at him, Meg felt a jolt of fear go through her for the first time since the Winchesters had sent her back to Hell.

He sounded like Castiel, he smelt like Castiel, and he almost looked like Castiel. But the way he held himself, the look in his eyes, was entirely different from the angel she’d kissed at Crowley’s compound. Power radiated off of him, so strong she could almost smell it. But it felt different from his grace. It felt _wrong._

“Meg, is something wrong?” he asked, stepping closer to the bed. The pressure in the room increased with his worry, and Meg finally understood that the power keeping her pinned was coming from him. His eyebrows came together in confusion when she didn’t answer, but he must have felt her fear, because he retreated from the side of the bed and his mouth fell open in a small ‘o’ of understanding. “You fear me. You should not fear me, Meg. I won’t hurt you.”

Meg opened her mouth to snap at him when the power pressing down on her suddenly became too much. She screamed with the girl inside her instead, giving into the pain that tore through her stolen body.

And then Castiel was on her and the pressure was gone.

Breathing heavily, she stared up into his empty eyes. “What the Hell, Clarence?”

“I’m sorry,” he said quickly. “I should have realized something like you would not be able to bear the full weight of my power. Are you very hurt?”

She wheezed. Her bruised rib throbbed inside of her as the girl in her head quieted her screaming. “Tell me what’s going on.”

He smiled at her, pride lighting up his face. “I am God now.” Meg tried not to laugh. He must have sensed her amusement, because he smiled down at her, as if they were sharing a joke. “You are happy for me. Good.”

“What’s going on?” she asked slowly. The smile stayed on Castiel’s face as he casually slipped off of her and sat, gesturing that she should sit up as well. Wary, Meg obeyed slowly, keeping her eyes fixed on his face for any signs of violence. She could deal with violence, of course, but if she could figure out a way to gain the upper hand without getting hurt, she preferred that.

He told her about double-crossing Crowley, ignoring the scowl that automatically came to her face when he revealed that they had been working together. He continued to talk, explaining Eve and Phoenix ash and raising Sam Winchester from Hell. He told her about months of careful planning. As he talked, Meg noticed that he raised his hand from the bed and took hers, lightly running his fingertips over her stolen skin.

Finally, he ended his tale with how he had taken over Heaven. When he finished, he looked at her as if he was expecting praise.

“That’s nice, Clarence, but what am _I_ doing here?”

He frowned at her. “I would think it was obvious, Meg. My brother was your God, and you served him loyally. Now I am God, and you will serve me.” When she didn’t answer, he reached out to lightly stroke her face. “I will love you better than he did, if you give me the same devotion in return. I will keep his promises.”

She tried not to recoil from his touch. It felt wrong. Before, when he had kissed her and stroked her skin, it had left behind a clean feeling. Now his skin on hers felt slimy. It burned a little, as if he did not have the control to keep his grace firmly locked away. Ignoring her obvious discomfort, he continued to stroke her skin, moving away from her face to lightly brush his hands over the soft skin of her neck. He gently pushed her jacket off her shoulders and ran his hands down her bare arms. She shivered slightly, both in pain and fear.

“Where are we?”

He kept his voice low and even. “It is not of import. What matters is that you are where I wish you to be.”

The girl inside her began screaming again, and Meg felt her fear more strongly than she felt her own. Clearly, she caught something Meg didn’t, because she retreated so far inside of her own mind that Meg could barely feel her.

A growl bubbled in Meg’s throat. Castiel ignored it and continued to explore her uncovered skin, gently stroking until he moved his hands to push up her shirt.

She leapt away from him then, pulling herself into a crouch and curling her hands into fists. Castiel looked startled, and then confused. “Meg?”

“What the fuck are you doing?” she demanded in a low voice. She shut out the girl screaming in her head and focused on Castiel.

“I had to kill many in Heaven when I became God,” he explained patiently. “I must rebuild our ranks. But unlike my father, I cannot create an angel, since I do not know how he created us. So we must resort to more…conventional methods. You seemed willing back in Crowley’s compound, and I find you acceptable. It will work. I will make it.”

Realization dawned on her, and for the first time Meg looked around the room. It was obviously built for luxury. The bed itself was large and plush, covered in rich red fabric and piled with enough pillows that it could be called romantic. The lights in the ceiling were dim, adding to the atmosphere but hiding much of the room from view. The elaborate carpets on the room matched the color of the bedspread, as did the walls. There were no windows that she could see, but she did spy two snow-white doors, one to her left and one behind Castiel.

He had clearly set up the room to be someone’s idea of romantic.

As if he had read her thoughts, Castiel nodded. “Jimmy’s wife once read a book where the bedroom looked like this. I know because she showed him a few pages and suggested they recreate a scene from the book.”

She ignored his comment. “Let me go.”

He frowned at her. “You seemed more than willing back in Crowley’s compound. This is a great honor, Meg. You will be the mother of a new race of angels. As your reward, I will find a way to bring you to Heaven to be with them.” He made to touch her again.

Meg punched him in the side of the head and threw herself onto the carpeted floor. Stumbling slightly, she bolted for the door behind Castiel and ran though it without looking, growling in frustration when she realized that she had run into the room’s adjoining bathroom.

Suddenly Castiel was behind her, calmly pressing his hand against the wound she had left on his head. “You should not have done that. I am trying to honor you as Lucifer never did.”

Seeing no other means of escape, Meg threw her head back, wished the girl inside her good luck, and gathered herself to leave her vessel. Before she could make a move, Castiel clamped his hand over her mouth and shook his head.

“None of that, Meg. Now, come. We have to begin.”

Meg turned her head and sank her teeth into his hand as she kicked her leg out toward his knee. Castiel simply shook his head at her again and picked her up, throwing Meg over his shoulder and carrying her back into the bedroom. She wriggled atop his shoulder and clawed at his back, attempting to get away. But even with her demonic strength Castiel was stronger than her, and he easily set her down on the bed.

Meg immediately attacked him, her hand curving as she tried to rake her nails down his face. Castiel held her back easily, but his hold was gentle, as if he did not want to hurt her.

“I’m sorry. I’d hoped you would accept happily. I did not want to do this.”

He touched her forehead, and Meg felt white-hot agony blaze through her. She screamed, feeling her demonic strength rapidly drain away until she could barely move.

“What did you do to me?” she wheezed. Castiel shrugged and gently laid her down on the bed, shedding his trench coat before he crawled in beside her.

“I have much power now, Meg,” he said quietly. “Your demonic strength is suppressed now. I cannot take it away, not completely, without making you a human.” Moving closer to her on the bed, he lightly kissed her neck and resumed his exploration of her body, pushing her shirt up to run his hands over her stomach. Her head buzzed in pain. Boneless from his attack, she limply tried to shift away from him and began to gather herself again so she could leave her vessel.

Castiel kissed her gently on the mouth before she could try. “That will not work anymore, Meg. In this room, you cannot leave your body.” He kissed her lazily as he pulled her shirt up and over her head. “This is an honor,” he repeated. “I choose you, Meg, because of your loyalty to your father. But he is gone now, and I am here. I love you, and you will love me, too.”

Feebly she shook her head as feeling returned to her limbs. She felt weaker, but she knew from experience how strong a human could be. She relaxed for a moment, feigning acceptance. Castiel hummed happily and thrust his tongue into her mouth.

She bit.

Castiel screamed and tried to pull away, but Meg kept his tongue between her teeth, wrenching her head from side to side. He kept screaming even as he tore himself away, blood streaming down his chin.

She turned her head and spat. The girl inside her resumed her screaming as Meg attempted to force Castiel’s blood out of her mouth. It stained her own throat and chin, and she could feel it drying on her breasts.

Castiel’s screaming stopped. He rose from the floor and stared down at her sadly. She watched his tongue grow back in sick fascination. Castiel wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and climbed back onto the bed.

“That is the last time you do that. I can forgive you once, because God forgives, but not again. You will obey.”

She snarled at him. “Fuck you.”

His eyes darkened and suddenly unbearable pressure filled the room. Meg screamed from the sudden pain and once again found herself limp against the bedding. Castiel lifted the pressure in the room, but when she tried to struggle away from him she found herself immobile. He smiled and walked to the end of the bed to remove her shoes.

Every move he made was gentle. Through her haze Meg barely felt his fingertips graze the tops of her feet when he took her boots off and set them at the foot of the bed. He moved for her pants next, swiftly undoing her belt and pulling it through the loops of her pants until it joined her boots. He smiled slightly when he removed her jeans and saw that she wasn’t wearing any underwear before he neatly folded them and set them on the carpet.

She kept her eyes fixed on him while he removed his own clothes. Once, she would’ve been glad to see the sight. She’d wanted him after the kiss in Crowley’s compound that had left her feeling entirely too clean, and she would be lying to herself if she hadn’t fantasized about tying him to a bed and corrupting that cleanliness.

All of it was gone now.

Castiel climbed back into the bed with her after he’d stripped placed his clothes, neatly folded, beside hers on the rug. He finally hesitated, and for a moment Meg thought that he had come to his senses and would leave her.

“I have never done this before,” he admitted. “My vessel’s memories will have to guide me, and Jimmy’s wife always seemed pleased enough.”

“He give you permission? Because the girl in here is not down with what’s about to happen,” she grunted. Not that Meg gave a damn about what their vessels wanted, but she knew that Castiel would. At least the old Castiel would.

He shrugged. “It does not matter anymore. Jimmy is only one of many in here now. She does not matter, either. I am God, so she is mine to do what I please with.”

That may have been true, but Meg was the farthest thing from a creature of God there was. She belonged to Hell, no matter what he said. He could have the girl and he could have the body. When he finally released her, she could easily find another. It wasn’t hers after all, no matter how much she liked it and cared for it.

Ignoring Castiel as he advanced on her again, Meg turned inward and dove into the girl’s mind, forcing the actress from Cheboygan to the surface as she burrowed as deep into the girl as she could go, determined to roll over and go to sleep until the angel was done.

She heard screaming above her, and faintly felt the body thrashing. But the sounds were all muffled, distant, and Meg smiled. She prepared to sleep and wait for the angel to abandon the girl when suddenly she jerked.

Meg felt herself being pulled upward as if someone had tied a rope around her waist and pulled hard. She was slammed back into the body without warning, trapped at the forefront of its mind with the actress. They screamed and thrashed together until she felt the girl falling away, forcibly being pushed down by someone else. Bucking on the bed, she tried to pull away, ceasing her movements when she felt Castiel place his hand on her forehead.

“Do it,” she snarled. He cocked his head at her and pressed his palm harder against her.

Her head went silent.

Frantically, Meg tried to reach the girl from Cheboygan, screeching in anger when she found her stolen body empty. She was alone, trapped in the girl’s flesh.

“She has found peace,” Castiel told her. “And now there can be no more interruptions. Lie still.”

Meg had no choice but to obey him with the way his power filled the room. Unable to move, she watched Castiel gently part her legs and settle himself between them. He pressed a feather-light kisses against her neck and shoulder and moved her hands so they were wrapped around his neck. When he kissed her again Meg was unable to resist even when he parted his lips with her tongue. She could still taste his blood from her earlier assault.

She waited for him to change, for violence to take over, but it never came. His touch remained soft, almost loving. He moved away from her neck and kissed his way down her body. Her arms slipped from his back and fell limply against the bedspread.

Before, his kiss had made her feel cleaner somehow, more pure, as if the angel’s grace could take away her corruption. Now her mouth felt oily, tainted, and his touch left behind the sensation of slime on her skin.

Meg let out an involuntary gasp when his lips brushed over the triangle of dark curls between her legs. Castiel hummed happily in response as he licked and sucked, pressing an occasional nip to the soft skin of her inner thighs.

Meg wished he would be violent. She could deal with violent, had dealt with it for years on the rack in Hell. But it was his gentleness, his desire to frame the scene as romantic that made her want to scream. Violence was always over quickly. This, she knew, would not be.

And it wasn’t.

Castiel took his time, touching and kissing nearly every inch of her stolen vessel before he settled himself on top of her again. She would have no marks, no signs of what he’d done.

He pushed into her stolen body slowly, letting out an almost-human moan of pleasure when he did. For her part, Meg only let out a small noise of pain, unable to talk under the power that filled the room. The pressure pushing her down onto the bed increased as Castiel moved, seemingly unable to concentrate on holding it back and on her at the same time. She could feel the invisible force pinning her to bed, grinding against her bones. Whatever it was, it sensed that she was a demon, sensed that she did not belong under an angel. Her bones creaked under the weight; the organs of her stolen body began to fail. She could feel it starting to rot under the power and let out a small whine of pain.

Castiel took it for one of pleasure and sealed his lips over hers again, his hips pumping faster. “I knew you’d want it,” he whispered. “I knew you’d see.”

She wanted to shake her head. She wanted to reach her hands up and scratch out those empty blue eyes until she was soaked in his blood, wanted to reach up and wrap her hands around his neck and squeeze.

Meg couldn’t do any of those things. The weight of the angel combined with the power filling room left her completely immobile, and the pain in her body made her almost unable to feel what Castiel was doing between her legs.

It didn’t matter what happened to the body anyway, she reasoned. It was just a shell, just a way for her to walk on Earth. His true form couldn’t touch hers without killing her. From that, she was safe. He could only hurt the body.

But she still felt it as clearly as if the body had been her own.

Finally, Castiel stilled above her with an entirely too-human grunt, gripping her hips harder than he had touched any part of her. Meg could almost feel bruises forming. When he released her the pressure in the room lessened, leaving Meg with a dull, throbbing headache and a dry mouth. She swallowed.

Castiel placed another gentle kiss to her lips before he rolled off of her and maneuvered Meg so she was lying on her side. Settling himself behind her, he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her back against his chest, pressing a light kiss to the damp strands of hair at the back of her neck. He inhaled deeply.

“I’ve made your vessel ovulate,” he breathed. Limp, Meg focused on the door she now knew led to the outside world. “We’ll try again in a few hours. It should only take a day or two. Rest.”

Demons didn’t need sleep, but evidently Castiel thought they did. Blessedly, Castiel pressed a hand against her forehead, and for the first time since Lucifer had risen from the Cage, Meg felt herself falling into unconsciousness.

.

She woke to Castiel fucking her again.

Still spooning her, the angel had thrown one of her legs over his own to keep her open for him, but he was clumsier this way. His movements, while still gentle, were jerky and unpracticed. Clearly, he had decided to experiment instead of relying on his vessel’s muscle memory. The power in the room was no longer unbearable, but he had kept it pressing down on her enough to keep her immobile.

Without the pressure in the room, Meg could feel him clearly. He moved slowly, still attempting to keep up a romantic façade. Or maybe he really did believe he was romancing her. Meg couldn’t tell the difference. She was a demon, built for blood and pain and screaming.

But even the rack had been better than this.

On the rack she could scream, she could fight, she could writhe in her bonds and offer some resistance. But she had chosen Hell, had chosen that punishment after she’d sold her soul.

Now, she was trapped because some insane angel playing God thought she’d be a good breeding partner.

Castiel stayed pressed against her when he finished, breathing against her neck and keeping his arms wrapped around her. He shifted slightly, and her legs fell back together limply. After a moment, Meg tried to move and found that she could shift away from him a little.

His grip was iron as he pulled her back to him, demanding she return his affection. Meg turned her head a little and sank her teeth into his arm as hard as she could. But with her strength drained and her exhaustion from her wounds, her bite did nothing. Castiel interpreted it as affection and lightly nipped at her ear in return.

After a moment he unwound himself. Meg felt him leave the bed and heard the rustling of clothing, but was unable to gather enough strength to roll over and see what he was doing. She felt a sudden tug of power and was forced to roll over onto her other side. Castiel, completely redressed, smiled at her from the edge of the bed.

“I have to go now,” he said slowly. “I will be back to check on you later. There were a few attempts while you were sleeping, and hopefully one took.” Bending over, he brushed his lips over her cheek and then headed for the door. It clicked softly as he closed it, and she heard a lock being slid into place.

The moment he left, the pressure in the room lifted, leaving her free to move. She did slowly at first, her battered body refusing to obey her instructions. Her chest hurt when she breathed, and a quick internal check confirmed at least two cracked ribs. Mercifully, all of the body’s organs were intact.

She felt bruised all over. But, Meg reasoned, she had survived much worse.

For now, she focused on walking, pushing Castiel and the events of the previous few hours out of her mind. She would deal with them later, when she was on her own and could be vulnerable. But even without him in the room she could feel herself being watched, so she forced herself to think ahead and try to make a plan.

Movements slow, she swung her legs over the edge of the bed and tried to stand. She wobbled for a moment and fell backward again, a small, pained noise slipping through her lips. Without her demonic strength she would have to rely on the body to heal itself the human way, which she knew could take days. Months, in the case of her ribs.

She stood again, and this time she managed to remain upright, wrinkling her nose in disgust when she felt cum dribble down her thigh. A quick scan of the room confirmed that it was windowless, and some fumbling on the wall revealed another light switch.

She saw bare red walls without paintings or any sort of decoration or light fixture that she could use for a weapon. The large bed pressed up against the wall was the only piece of furniture. The plush carpet extended from wall to wall.

Her clothes were gone.

Growling in frustration, Meg limped to the bathroom, nearly falling onto the tile. Expanding even that much energy after her ordeal was almost too much. Her legs shook from the effort to pick herself back up again.

The bathroom itself was clean and orderly, and utterly bare of anything she could use as a weapon, short of ripping the tap out of the sink. If she’d had her demonic strength, she would’ve easily been able to. But reduced to human limitations she could only tug at it ineffectively. There was a walk-in shower with no showerhead. Instead, when she pressed a button, it flowed directly from three of them inserted into the ceiling. There was no toilet.

She stepped into the stream of water without checking the temperature. Thankfully, it was hot. Steam began to fill the small bathroom almost immediately. It fell from the three showerheads like a soft rain, and she welcomed the lack of pressure.

Her legs gave out. With a small yelp, Meg fell to the bottom of the shower. Her wet hair clung to her face.

Giving in to the feelings bubbling inside her, Meg pressed her forehead against her knee and screamed.

.

She could feel Castiel return when she emerged. She still moved slowly, the added weight of the power in the room nearly choking her. But Castiel seemed to be pulling back, and the smile on his face when she walked out of the cloud of steam suggested that he wanted her to walk to him on her own.

There was another angel standing beside him. Her vessel was pretty, with dark hair and a shapely figure. For a moment Meg wondered why Castiel hadn’t just picked one of his own and left her where she was.

“This is Hannah,” he said without preamble. “She’s here to guard you. I understand you’re hesitant to carry out my plans, but I have chosen you for a reason.” When Meg refused to answer, he tipped his head at Hannah, dismissing her. The angel looked at her, something that was almost like pity in her eyes.

Meg mentally added her to the list of people she was going to kill when she got free. Maybe she’d scratch her eyes out, too, like she was going to do with Castiel.

“I brought you some things,” Castiel continued, walking over to the bed and motioning for her to follow. When she didn’t, he simply flicked his wrist and forced her feet to move until she was sitting on the edge of the bed. “There are some magazines, which I’m told women enjoy reading, and I brought you a nightgown so you will be more comfortable in the coming weeks. An angel pregnancy does not work like a human pregnancy. It should only take a few weeks for the babe to form and be born. You will not expand like a human woman would. I thought you’d like that.”

He laid the nightgown next to her on the bed. When she didn’t move to put it on, he simply lifted it again and pulled it down over her wet hair, moving her arms through the sleeves like he was dressing a child. Black with small, white flowers, the skirt fell nearly to her feet and the sleeves ended just above her wrists. Too loose for her, it fell to the side, exposing one shoulder. Castiel pressed a quick, affectionate kiss to the bare skin before he reached to take her in his arms.

As quickly as she could, Meg vaulted backward away from him and ran for the door, growling in frustration when she found it locked. She growled again and turned, bracing her feet on the floor and pulling herself into a fighting stance. She’d had enough of his forced affection and his plans.

Castiel simply shook his head at her.

“Know this,” he said quietly. “You cannot escape, Meg. I am the most powerful being in existence, and I hold you here. What I wish will happen. You will carry the angel child starting in your vessel’s womb. The human sheath will save it from your demon taint. If you obey me, then when our numbers are rebuilt I shall cleanse you and bring you with us to Heaven, as my brother once promised.”

He began walking toward her, and Meg felt the pressure in the room building again until it took all of her concentration to remain standing. He took her into his arms and pressed her face against his chest, his grip on her remaining loose. “I love you, Meg, as God should love every creature. You will love me, too. I am a just God. I honor you as no demon has ever dreamed to be honored, and I will keep the promises my brother did not. It may take time, but you will love me as you should.”

With that, he reached down and picked her up, holding her close against his chest. Invisible restrains kept her from struggling against him or clamping her teeth down on his neck. If she could just get to the soft skin and sink her teeth hard enough into his flesh, she could at least leave him rolling on the floor like she had when she’d bitten off part of his tongue. But Castiel seemed more at ease with his Godlike powers now, more in control, and he was able to keep her from moving at all.

He walked her across the room and in one smooth motion pulled the covers back from the bed, placed her in it, and drew them back up to her chest. “I know you’ll come around,” he told her before he placed a gentle, affectionate kiss to her forehead and left the room.

The power remained behind, keeping her pinned under the covers and unable to scream her frustrations.

.

She grew slowly.

As the days went by, Meg found herself slowly able to move around the room. She tried over and over to smash her way through the doorway until Hannah firmly called through the door that it was no use: Castiel had warded the other side, and even if she did manage to break through the wood, a hallway full of devil’s traps awaited her.

Frustrated, she did everything she could to pry the bedframe apart and use it as a weapon. But it was so heavy that none of it would budge. She could use the sheets or blankets to trap him, she supposed, but then what would she do? It would only be a minor inconvenience to Castiel, and he would simply pour his power into the room until she was unable to move.

Still, she felt her body change. Her stomach expanded until a small bump was visible through her nightgown and her ankles swelled. Her breasts grew larger, heavier, as they filled with milk for a child she did not want to nurse. Fatigue plagued her, and Meg found herself sleeping without being forced to.

Castiel appeared once in a while to check on her progress, glowing with delight when he saw that his plan had worked and the new angel was forming inside the human vessel. He touched her constantly, stroking her hair or pulling her into his lap as he talked about the pregnancy, or what he had done since he last appeared. He was her only way to chart the days, but as she grew weaker and weaker from the grace pulsing inside her, Meg found herself unable to care that he was near.

She wanted out.

If only he would let her speak when he was with her, she might be able to goad him into killing her, at least after the little abomination came out. But he had told her that he had slaughtered hundreds of angels in Heaven, and that he had to replace all the ones he’d killed.

Even with her accelerated pregnancy, she knew it would be a long time before he let her out of the room.

She tried to retreat inside herself, to leave the body behind and burrow down so deeply she would be unable to hear, or see, or feel anything that was happening to it. But along with her demonic strength, Castiel had taken away the ability to do that as well. She was trapped at the forefront of its mind.

Without the girl from Cheboygan, the body almost felt like it belonged to her now that she could no longer leave it or retreat inside it. But she was demon enough that she could feel every ache, every muscle movement, in a way that a human never could. She felt her ribs slowly healing, felt the battered flesh returning to its former state.

She felt the baby move.

It wasn’t a baby, not really. She remembered pregnancy from when she was human, and the angel inside of her felt nothing like it. It would shift inside her regularly, like a ball rolling around in a bowl. She knew that Castiel couldn’t feel it from the outside when he rested his hands on the barely-there bump from the way he frowned, but she could. It felt almost like a tickle.

Meg knew it would be over soon when she turned the lights off and saw her stomach glowing faintly. She pulled the nightgown up and watched the glow move through her skin, the soft light giving the room and eerie feeling. The glow from the angel made it look less like a scene out of romance novel and more like something out of a horror film.

Which, in Meg’s opinion, it was.

.

She knew it was time when she opened her eyes and saw Castiel and Hannah standing over her. At some point when she had been asleep Castiel had stripped the covers off the bed and pulled her nightgown off. He stood between her spread legs, waiting, while Hannah stood off to the side, a bundle in her arms. When she shifted Meg saw that it was a human child, and when she reached out with her extra sense she could tell that the spirit had left the body, leaving it empty. Meg closed her legs.

“As we are not taking the children to Heaven until all of them are born, I thought it better for them to have a vessel,” Castiel explained, answering her unspoken question. “Young angels need a lot of care, and it will be easier for the child to see you if she is in a vessel.”

Meg didn’t ask how he knew if the child even had a gender. Truthfully, she didn’t care.

Distantly, Meg noticed that Castiel had physical restrained her for the first time. There were padded ropes around her wrists that bound her to the headboard, keeping her in place while also preventing the bonds from digging into her skin. An identical pair of ropes kept her legs tied to the end of the bed, giving her just enough slack to pull her knees up and spread her legs.

“This will hurt,” Castiel warned. Hannah stayed silent beside him, looking fearfully away. Meg took a good look at her and noticed that the angel’s own middle was glowing slightly under her practical suit.

So Castiel had enlisted others. She figured that, unlike her, Hannah had willingly gone along with his plan or feigned willingness well enough that Castiel allowed her the freedom to move around.

A new plan began to form in her mind before pain ripped through her, starting from her middle. She saw the skin of her stomach move, as if something inside of her was trying to escape. She recognized the burn of grace inside of her, and realized that the angel was struggling to get out, burning her from inside. Instinctually, she tried to flee, opening her mouth and trying to force herself out of the body. But Castiel’s power still kept her trapped inside the flesh, so all that came out was a scream of pain.

Her vision blurred until she could not see anything and instead focused on the room’s ceiling, as deep a red as the rest of it. Meg thrashed in her bonds as pain blazed through her, and even through the padding she could feel the bite of the ropes at her ankles and wrists. Leaving the body to run itself, she felt her knees pull up and her legs spread on their own. She felt a finger probing at her entrance, and managed to focus enough to look down and see Castiel, a look of intense concentration on his face, move both of his hands between her legs.

The pain stopped, the glowing ball of light in her stomach moving downward toward the power that Castiel was giving off. His fingers felt wetter than they should be, but Meg didn’t question it. Whatever Castiel was doing, she decided, he could keep doing it, as long as it got the angel out of her _now._

But even now, he was slow and trying to be gentle. Meg grunted through the pain and watched him slip one finger into her, and then another, gently probing. Then, aided by his powers, he slipped his hand into her in one smooth motion.

Her body tightened in pain, her throat was too hoarse to even produce a scream, but she felt a sick sort of fascination as Castiel pushed his hand deeper into her. It hurt, but her body felt so numb already that she could barely register it. His hand moved deeper and the pain sharpened, and Meg was sure that he was using his powers to thrust his fingers right into her womb. He paused for a moment before he pulled it out and glanced up at her, concentration written on his face. “Close your eyes. Until she is in her vessel, looking at her will kill you, as looking at my true form would.”

Meg refused to look away. Castiel sighed and waved his other hand, forcing her head back. She rolled her eyes down to try to glimpse the ball of light but Castiel gestured to Hannah. The other angel walked over to her and gently set the nearly-dead child down next to her on the bed before she tied a blindfold over her eyes and moved away again.

Meg barely felt Castiel slip his hand from her, but even through the blindfold she could _feel_ the child glow. There was a quick burst of light that hurt her eyes through the material covering them, and she instinctively tried to turn inward to flee from the grace filling the room.

It lasted only a moment. The light faded and the room fell quiet.

There was no afterbirth, but Meg could feel smears of blood on her thighs from Castiel’s hand. She could smell it, too. It filled the large room, and the smell was the first thing she noticed as the pain faded. Her head buzzed.

The baby began to cry.

The small angel wailed inside its human vessel, its cries filling the small room and drowning out Castiel and Hannah’s voices. Her breasts leaked milk in response.

Meg felt gentle hands on her ankle, but she was too exhausted to kick at them. Instead, she allowed them to undo her bonds and gently pull her legs closed before they re-did them, tying her ankles together. The baby continued to cry in the background.

The set of hands moved to her back, gingerly pulling her into a sitting position. Whoever it was finally removed the blindfold, and Meg saw that it was Hannah that had helped her. When she looked away from the female angel, she saw Castiel holding the newborn, a sheepish smile on his face.

“She needs to eat,” Hannah said gently. “That’s still a human vessel. It’ll quiet her.”

Castiel nodded without looking away from the newborn’s face. “I don’t want her screaming and disturbing the child, but I cannot use my power to curb her. It would hurt the infant. Make her silent, Hannah.”

Before Meg could gather her strength to protest or fight, Hannah took the blindfold and simply wound it around her mouth, tying it behind her head. She glared at the angel.

“I’m sorry,” Hannah whispered. “But he’s God now. We have to listen.”

“You can leave,” Castiel said stiffly. Hannah nodded and retreated, leaving Meg alone with Castiel and the child. He finally turned his attention toward her and smiled, moving toward the bed. “She has three heads, like me.”

Meg grunted through the gag.

Ignoring her, Castiel settled on the bed and maneuvered until he was holding the child to Meg’s breast. The baby latched on gleefully and began to suck. Meg tried to wiggle away, but Castiel gripped her hard with his other hand and sent her a warning glare.

“Hannah’s own should be born tonight, and Muriel’s was born yesterday. If I cannot trust you to feed your own child yet, one of them will do it for you,” he warned. “But I would rather she bond with her mother, even if she is a demon.”

Meg glared back at him. Castiel gently maneuvered himself around so he could untie one of her hands and place it under the baby. He held her wrist in an iron grip so she could not pull away but was forced to hold the child to her breast. Her other wrist ached. Her nipple hurt.

Now free to use his other hand, Castiel reached up and stroked her hair before settling himself against her side and pressing a kiss to her tangled hair. “You did wonderfully, by the way, for a demon bearing an angel.”

She continued to glare at him. Castiel sighed and took the baby from her, flicking his wrist to slam her hand back in place against the headboard. “I will come and see you in a few days. Muriel told me that childbirth is exhausting, especially an angel child. You will feel better when you’ve gotten some rest.”

He secured her wrist to the headboard and left her, gagged, on the bare bed.

Meg curled her knees to her chest and stared at the wall, numb.

.

She was almost glad to see Castiel when he returned, even though the unbearable pressure returned with him. She estimated that he had left her in that room, bound and gagged, for about a week, but she had no way to tell. He was gentle when he undid her bonds and pulled her gag from her mouth. “Do you want to see your child?”

For a moment Meg forgot about her plan to fake compliance and snarled at him. “No.”

“She is growing remarkably well. Soon she will begin talking,” he informed her. “You could name her, if it is not something demonic.” Meg glared at him.

Castiel pulled her discarded nightgown over her head and left her in the middle of the large bed as he retrieved the bedding. He picked her up and gently set her on the floor. Meg watched him put the sheets on the bed. He settled her back down against them and climbed in beside her, keeping the comforter kicked down near the footboard.

“You do not love it yet,” he said, stroking her through the fabric. Meg shivered and felt Castiel smile against her neck. He pulled his hands away from her and she heard the jingle of a belt buckle and the light rustle of fabric before he put her hands on her again, his hard cock pressing against the swell of her ass through the nightgown. Meg remained limp in his arms as he rucked her nightgown up around her waist and pulled one of her legs over his.

He rubbed the head of his cock over her, teasing. Meg involuntarily felt the body tighten in fear.

“That’s okay,” he whispered as he slid inside her. “You’ll feel different with the next one.”

**Author's Note:**

> according to the web site used, saxifrage is the flower meaning affection.


End file.
